Hidden Desire

That night Fluttershy and Twilight Sparkle were sitting around the dinner table. An awkward silence enshrouded around them, hanging like an oppressive mist that cut between any attempts at small-talk either mare had made. The only sound was that of their chewing, the occasional flip of a page, and the under-breath curses from Twilight’s side of the table every time she blinked and was reminded if IT.

Following their visit to Assley Maredison, both mare’s had quickly agreed to never speak of that encounter again. It had also quickly become evident that they weren’t going to be in time for the last train out of Manehattan, certainly not one that wouldn’t have Fluttershy scared out her wits because, and she quotes: ‘An empty, dark train at night, with nopony but yourself, the shady-looking foreman and the conductor, at night, is a murder-train-mystery novel waiting to happen,’ and that wasn’t an issue of Shorn Hock she had any interest in debuting in any time soon.

Thus, they were both here, in a cramped little apartment barely large enough to hold one pony, let alone a mare and a Princess, for one night. Dented lamp shade swayed over the table, casting a dim-yet earnest, light across the spoils of their war—about half a dozen take-away boxes from the local Chineighs restaurant.

The living room had several suitcases, trunks, and bags, piled atop the coffee table, whilst the couch had been shifted and tilted to form a make-shift, princess-sized bed that the owners had so graciously provided for them upon arrival. Twilight still regretted they couldn’t get the Queen Suite at Withering Heights, but apparently somepony had flooded their bathrooms.

All thirty nine of them.

At the same time.

‘Shy gingerly worked the chopsticks in between her primaries, using the ends of her feathers like appendages to lift her noodles to her muzzle. They’d reach almost half-way, and something would happen—either her feathers would shake, unused to holding this as delicate as this, or she would sneeze, or the noodles were just slippery—and they’d slither between her grip and back to the plate below, resulting in an arduous sigh from Fluttershy’s part.

She was just about to try again, for the fifth time, when Twilight broke the silence with a snort. “Snrk—” She nickered and slurped down her generous helping of Chow Mane, all the while forcing back the urge to snort and guffaw out of control. “Ha—” Get this. She unpeeled her eyes from her light reading—an atlas on the differing types of magical hypersensitivity disorders, their causes, and metal-physical effects on ponies living in close vicinity to each other, as categorised by Professor Inches of Prail, Maressachusetts. You know, light stuff. A casual afternoon read. His scientific reasoning was good, but his methodology was oft times laughable.

She lifted the book to begin reading from the passage in question. “’The meteorological effects of a stallion and mare living in close living quarters [see sec. 3, p54 on familial relations]”—She skimmed the citation, even pronouncing the square brackets—“upon the subjects among a test group of sixy-nine part—Are you even listening?”

“Hm?” Fluttershy snapped out of her stupor, her ears snapping back to the front as the fogs were momentarily cleared from her mind. “Y-Yes, of course!” She nodded. “Wh-What were we talking about?”

Twilight deadpanned. She set the book aside—offsetting the balance of the entire table, and leaned her attention fully to Fluttershy, a look of concern painted across her face. “If everything okay?” she asked, “You haven’t said a word since we got back from As—” She shivered as the image of IT flashed through her mind. “That place, a-and you haven’t even touched your food.

At the mere mention of the noodles, Fluttershy’s gaze shot directly to the plate in front of her. It was true, she hadn’t touched it, though not for lack of trying. She never had a knack at lifting things with her wings, like Rainbow Dash, and these stupid, stupid—she let the chopsticks drop useless to food below—Sticks were utterly impossible to work with.

“Is there something wrong?” Twilight leaned across the table, her own food forgotten for the time being. She looked to Fluttershy with a look of genuine concern. “You can tell me anything, you know that?”

“N-No—I mean yes, I mean—” Shy scrambled for the right words, eventually settling back into her seat, whispering a quietened “I-I know, Twilight...” She sighed. “It’s just—it’s embarrassing, and well—”

“We did get rid of your heat, didn’t we?” Twilight raised an eyebrow, through her concern didn’t come off any less. Rather, it seemed only the worse as the lines of worry started to etch their way into the corner so her eyes.

Fluttershy noticed this, and her face quickly flushed red. “Oh-Oh no. No.” She forced a smile, her attempt at placating the princess, at least for now. She sat back up in her seat and patted down the tablecloth in search of the fork. “N-n-No, I’m fine. I’m all better. I see much better”—Her smile waivered, wobbled, as she switched to turning over the empty Chineighs boxes in search of her chosen implement. “I feel great, even”—it wasn’t a lie, she hadn’t felt this good in absolutely ages—“It’s just...”

“It’s what?” Twilight pressured her.

Fluttershy pushed back.

It wasn’t enough. It was the best thing she had ever felt. It was amazing, scary, exciting, exhilarating, and terrifying, all wrapped into a bundle with a bow attached. Though she didn’t know who exactly the stallion was, she had a faintest clue. His voice was one she’d heard before, somewhere.

The question ate into her like mind twister that never let go, a song that, no matter how much you tried, you could never stop singing it every time you were alone in the shower. She knew who it was, yet she didn’t, and it was infuriating.

On top of all of that, the fact that this mystery stallion had left her with the best feeling she had had in her life for a long time only aggravated her further.

She was satisfied. But she wasn’t satisfied.

Fluttershy slumped in her chair, breathing out in resignation. There were no forks, not that she could find, and it would take nothing short of a forklift to make her get up and fetch one from the kitchen. “I-It’s nothing.”She sighed, and lied. “Let’s just forget about it.

Fluttershy reached across the table. She hooked the serving bowl of red chilli peppers under her hoof, and dragged them to her side of the table. “We’ll finish dinner, and I’ll—”

“What are you doing!?” Twilight’s pupils shrunk, her wings flared, and she practically threw herself across the table as she screamed. “Don’t eat that!” The table shook, knocking both of their meals and almost spilling chillies all over the tablecloth as she yanked the pot out of Fluttershy’s reach. Twilight was virtually fuming. “Are you CRAZY!? You just had your heat! You can’t eat chillies now!”

“Wh-Wh-Why?” Fluttershy squeaked.

“If you do, you risk starting it all over again, and then we’d have to go visit Ass—ass”—Twilight’s eyelid twitched as she struggled to pronounce the dreaded word—“Assley Maredison again!”

Something inside her clicked, and Fluttershy froze, her cheeks heating up. Did she just? “W-We’d have to go again?” It took all of her self-control to keep from breaking out into the widest of wide grins. It took even more to keep her wings from fluffing up against the back of the seat—luckily this wasn’t a pegasus hotel otherwise they’d have gone right through the chair. Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes!” Twilight seemed adamant. She set the pot down on her side, keeping it far, far, away from Fluttershy’s prying hooves. “If you’ve been in heat at any point within the last twenty-four hours, just one bite of any kind of spicy food could cause it to flare up again, maybe even worse than it was before!”

Even worse.

Fluttershy’s eyes almost bulged from her sockets. “O-Oh my.”

Twilight, by Fluttershy’s luck, misconstrued the gasp as shock. “Yes,” she nodded, “so as you can see, we can’t have you eating this right at this moment.”
‘Shy swallowed, barely containing her excitement behind a veil of fau-concern. “Oh, I see...” She lowered her eyes, letting the bangs do their thing and hide her blush. She had to change the subject, and fast. Luckily, the perfect topic was just at the forefront of her mind. “So-Wh-What was your day like, then? Twilight?” she asked. Then, again, the follow-up question came: “Did you end up figuring out what was wrong at Rarity’s boutique.”

That tactic seemed to work, as Twilight’s expression changed to a thoughtful one. She tapped her chin, with the other hoof still clamped down over the top of the chillies. “Well...” Twilight thought for a moment. “Not really,” she admitted, “I asked a few ponies around, and they all pointed my in the direction of the boutique, but I never actually found the boutique.”

“Do you know what could have happened to it?”

“I don’t.” She shook her head, then shrugged it off. “But I’m sure it’s just fine, we can always ask Rarity again when we get back home...”

.

~ ~ ~

.

The muffled thump, thump, thump of hooves against hardened oak wood echoed through the narrow passageways, along with the hushed mumblings of a stallion in distress. The floorboards screaked, one snapped and the trundling gave way to the not-so-muffled creak and slam of the door.

A befuddled Zephyr Breeze stumbled through doorway into his one-horse sized apartment, dropping the keys as he stumbled over the threshold. “Gah—” He gasped for breath, clutching as his heart, and wheezing after the lengthy trek up the steps to the forty-fifth floor of his loft apartment. “—aaah—“ His voice was horse, his mouth was dry, and his face was wet from the now drying juices of at least a dozen mares—the spoils of ‘working’ tirelessly for almost the entire day.

His mane-bun had long since fallen apart, after being gripped for the fifth time between some mare’s trembling thighs. By the end of the day he was just so completely drained he couldn’t spare the extra work to remake it, at least not after the last time it had been pulled apart, and thus the hairs hung across his vision, dripping and sticky with sweat, obscuring his face as he stumbled into the room proper.

In one fell swoop, Zephyr passed directly through the kitchen, the bathroom, the living room, and then the bedroom has he face-planted into the rotten mattress that was the bed.

Inches behind him, the front door swung closed and clicked shut with the rattling clang-kluck of a rusted broken hinge. The walls shuddered, and somewhere overhead a shelf collapsed, dumping his trunk of belongings on the floor, smashing the dining table and all the old crockery it held under the ker-crunck of collapsing cardboard.

Plus one to the carpenter pony

“Uuuuuhh...” Zephyr groaned out with every last ounce of his strength, screaming into the pillow. Somepony knocked against the ceiling and a feminine, cranky, mare’s voice shouted down over the sound of rock music from below for him to keep it down. “What is my life...”

He rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. Cracks and the discolorations of age-old water damage stared him right back and he patted down his face to dislodge the stains of dried mare-cum from his cheeks—along with wipe the acrid taste from his mouth.

The last pony of the day was a screamer.

And a squirter.

And an earth pony.

Management had warned him about those kinds of mares. They told him he would have to hold his breath and ‘ride it out’ but they failed to go into detail about exactly why, or how long. The migraine from the skull crushing he’d just received was nothing less than unprincessly. Even just thinking about—the PTSD was already setting in—It made him wonder if there really was such a thing as ‘too much sex’, if such a thing were even possible.

Though, even through this, Zephyr still had to hold strong. It always got worse before it got better, the motivational speakers as his college would say, and the words of his sister still rung in the back of his mind: “You can do it,” he recited under his breath, adding a tiny hoof pump into the air above him, just the way Fluttershy was apt to do. “You’re a grown, independent stallion. Don’t be a wimp.” That was paraphrasing, of course. He’d quickly begun to lose interest beyond the first few words, but it certainly sounded like something Fluttershy would say, even if it wasn’t totally accurate.

He rolled t the side, looking to the wall adjacent to the bathroom and the kitchen, where a pin-up of this year’s Wonderbolts™ calendar stared him back; a full spread of Rainbow Dasgh in her Cadet’s uniform lay spread across an extra fluffy-looking cloud. She was winking to the camera, her eyes glossed over whilst she caressed a cherry lollypop under her tongue.

Her wings and thighs were perfectly-toned, as the W.Bs tended to be, though her wings were especially interesting. They looked perfectly at home as they bent around the stick of the pop.

“Oh Rainbow...” His little shiney was just peeking out between his legs when he looked to the side. Directly beside it, a photo of Fluttershy taken on his last visit showed her smiling into the camera. The words ‘never give up’ were scribbled across the image in permanent marker as the photo hung askew, taped against the wall. “... Big sis’...”

A twang of regret pricked between his ears. Meanwhile another little prick twanged somewhere else as his mind automatically switched to the events of earlier that day.

He’d by lying if he said he didn’t enjoy what he did. However bad it felt, she was still sweeter than any other mare he’d tasted that afternoon—it was one of the best memories her could glean from the entire experience. Her flanks were just the right thickness. They were soft and pudgy, with just the right amount of fat to hold onto.

Every other pegasus was lean, with weather-hardened fur. Even the unicorns, had a little something of a scratch to their coat due to the weather, but she—her fur was soft and silky, the type that could only come from a life close to the ground, safe and sound inside a warm hut with hot cocoa and cute little critters to cuddle by the fire.

His shaft slowly rose, poking past the end of the sheath to stiffen at the outside air. Zephyr could imagine himself with that mare, with her and her cute little animals, all huddled in the warmth with a blanket, and a little something to read.

His sex wasted no time in making itself known. After the long day of pleasuring—and being pleasured by—mares, of teasing and being teased all without any release, it wasn’t a surprise that it took little more than nothing to get a rise from his loins. The end of twitched and pulsed in the dim light, engorging itself and growing to it full, throbbing, glory as his hooves went to absent-mindedly stroking the shaft.

Up, and down.

They would exchange nothings. She’d giggled. They’d kiss. Then the kissing would deepen, spread. One thing would lead to another, and then...

Zephyr’s eyes wandered back to the poster. His breath was short as he gave the picture one more cursory glance, and then back to the memories of the yellow mare. Her pink locks, her perfect yellow flank, how much she looked, sounded, smelled like Fluttershy. It was wrong. Everything about it felt wrong, so gut-wrenchingly sordid, but some carnal part of him deep down hoped, wondered—

What if—What if that was her?

The end of his cockhead flared and strained, harder and more erect. His hoof, in response, increased its pace. It dipped lower, squeezed a little tighter, gripping the shaft in the way he imagined his sister would.

His eyes drifted to the old photograph. Fluttershy’s eyes—those deep, shining green pools of light—stared back into his soul, so happy, so filled with love. Zephyr bit his lip. “Oh big sis’... what have you done to me?”

.

~ ~ ~

.

Fluttershy lay awake in her bed that night. She was on her back, wide awake and staring into the darkness that surrounded her as she silently awaited dream’s sweet embrace. Yet, however long she tried, however she tossed and turned and tried as the might to put her mind at rest, sleep was proving to be a wily mistress to catch.

Every time she felt like she was slipping away, drifting into Luna’s ream of rest, her mind had her thrust back to the land of the living with a fresh memory, or a tingling through of the stallion from the day before. She could still distinctly remember him, the sound of his voice, his strong, firm touch against her flank—her wings were stiff against the mattress under her back, pinned where they were barely able to move, yearning for their release. She shifted her position, causing the sheets to clump around her tussling form.

The sun had long since set, leaving her with nothing but the checker pattern of the moon’s light as it streaming through the open window, cut to ribbons by the gently parted curtains fluttering in the breeze. A dim glow was cast across the surroundings, and her eyes drifted lazily over the ceiling as she turned her head, and bit her lip.

She could remember the sensations of his chin pressing against her underside, and the rough texture of his unkempt facial hair. It pricked and tingled as they glided and meshed with the sensitive hairs of her fur, sending tiny pinpricks of electricity through her nerves with every touch.

She could remember his voice, however few his words were, and there was something familiar about them, something she couldn’t place. It was like there was some deep-seeded, detached memory buried in her subconscious. It was there, knowing at her, just beyond her reach, but she couldn’t quite place a hoof on from where it came. Something from long ago, that she knew well, that was yearning to come out, but cowered away as if afraid it would crumble if it met the light of day.

Her heat was gone, that was certain, but even still she could feel herself starting to breath slightly heavier. Her breath was warm. The cold night air was less chilling, more soothing as the blood started to radiate through her body, warming her extremities and the bedding around.

Through the fogs, her mind wandered to Twilight’s words:

“Just one bite of any kind of spicy food...” she thought out aloud.

Just one bite.

It was a gamble, of course. There were no guarantees that it was going to work, and even if it did, and Twilight decided to let her go for a second visit, how was she supposed to know that she’d get the same stallion again? Assley Maredison had likely employed of dozens, if not hundreds of stallions and mares. They wouldn’t give her the same pony, doubtless it was unlikely they would give her another stallion. The next time she went she’d just as well end up being eaten out by another mare—her wings gave an affirmative throb at the prospect, pushing back against the soft padding of the bed.

The chances were miniscule, but were they really worth it? Was it worth putting her friendship with Twilight to the test just for the chance that she could meet that stallion again? Just for the smallest possibility of putting her mind at rest, of finding her answers to the question of just who was that yesterday?

Her resolve settled. Fluttershy’s eyes flicked open and they drifted across the room one more time, taking in her surroundings proper. The shapes of various furnishings came into view, the darkened shadows of a chair, and dresser. The mirror reflected the moon’s light and the bright green eyes of a determined mare looked back at her—staring from her position sat up in the middle of the bed, pink bangs tied into a cute little bun as she gave Fluttershy the affirmative, a nod.

The common area was just as dark when she entered. Fluttershy crept slowly down the small passage, stepping as lightly as she possible could—even with the soft, squishy carpeting compressing and muffling her hoof-steps, she felt like every motion was a veritable earthquake of a terrific thunder.

Her head peaked around the corner into the living room. The kitchen was on the left, with the couches and coffee table on the right. The one couch facing with its back away gave a mumbled with a gentle snort, and a mare’s voice grumbled from the mound nestled in the middle of it.

Fluttershy slowly snuck into the adjacent living room to check on Twilight: The princess was curled up in her spot on the makeshift bed. “... Ooooh my, Long Division,” she muttered, smacking her lips as she tussled and turned under the spare blanket. “Your proof of the”—she snored—“squares of the roots of the adjacent sides in the...”—another snort and Twilight twisted onto her side. Her wings unfurled to full mast against the back of the couch. “...in the hyperbolic plane is so hhh...”

She was having a wet dream, or at least what qualified as one in the Twilight Zone. Stifling a giggle, Fluttershy retreated back into the kitchen space, rather deciding to leave Twilight to her dreams. She had better business to deal with, regardless, and made a beeline for the dining table.

The dining table—or more like a coffee table now that it wasn’t covered in plates and dishes appeared much the same as it was a few hours prior. The dishes had long since been cleared away and put into the sink whilst Twilight’s book was nowhere to be seen—likely taken with for more ‘light reading’ before bed. A cursory glanced over the island confirmed Fluttershy’s suspicions. The massive tomb was set on mantle, carefully positioned just near the edge facing Twilight’s sleeping arrangements, adjacent to the old reading lamp huddled in the corner.

She’d likely been reading that before going to bed, which played nicely into Mr. ‘Long Division’. ‘Shy giggled, this time a little louder from her position in the kitchen. She decided to file that little tid-bit away for her next spa trip with Rarity, and instead turned to focus her mind on the task at hoof.

Her little... sordid adventure, so to speak.

Fluttershy leaned in and started sorting through the little pyramid of cardboard boxes—it was a shame to tear it down, especially after Twilight had spent so long alphabetising them, but some sacrifices had to be made for the better good. Her hooves fumbled with one of the boxes as the pile tumbled down across the table, scattering little cubes to the floor below.

Fluttershy froze, gritting her teeth, ready for the inevitable ‘What are you doing!?’ to come after from Twilight’s bed, but the silence persisted and her ears strained to the darkness as Twilight’s breathing resumed, unchanged. She snorted and whispered something about her brother before rolling back over and returning to her dreams.

‘Shy le her breath out and relaxed. That was a close one.

She bent down to retrieve the missing items, and as she did, a glint of something in the moonlight caught her eyes. She leaned back up on top of the table with the missing fork and the cardboard box, and then set them both down in front of her place setting at the table.

Everything was there—sans plates—except for one glaring omission. “Where are they!?” Fluttershy whispered, her eyes squinting as she glanced frantically over the table one more time. She turned over each box, looking inside for the missing bowls of condiments. She remembered specifically a bowl of chillies, mayonnaise, some green mustard, among other things when they were eating, none of which seemed to be here now.

She huffed, and glanced up to look across to the living room, where the princess was still soundly sleeping. They’d obviously been moved, but where?

Well, what would Twilight do?

Foods go in the fridge.

Fluttershy, very quietly, facehoofed. She did an about-face and trotted into the kitchen, flung open the fridge door, and flinched at the wash of yellow light as the little lamp flicked on inside. She hurriedly turned to inspecting the rows of items in the fridge door, ignoring the ‘complementary’ beverages that had been stocked in there before, and instead going straight for the last bowl on the right.

She slumped to her flanks as she held the little bowl between her forelegs. The little red and green peppers lay motionless, innocently, chilling in the bottom of the bowl. They seemed to normal, so unassuming. Their skin was shiny with a hint of sweat from sitting in the fridge so long, and her breath came up in little puffs of mist from the cool air leaking out past the opened fridge door.

She had them. This was it.

Her wing reached in and dabbed at the bowl. It was chilled, but no strange sensations came, naturally, to her unfeeling primaries. They simply dabbed against the surface of the chilly and came back up unaltered.
Even a cursory lick and she tasted nothing. It was like they have never been there in the first place. Not even the faintest hint of a burning, itching, or even a tingly wanting. Just nothing.

‘Shy took a deep breath. Slowly, she shifted the weight of the bowl to her wings and reached in with her right hoof, pulling out one of the vegetables by the stem. It was bulbous, almost cone shaped, as any pepper would be. It didn’t move and it didn’t burn her hooves. It just hung there utterly unaware of what she was thinking of doing with it.

She was sure, if she could talk to plants, she would attempt to tell them her plan, ask them how they felt about being eaten. But they were plants, and she was a pony. Ponies couldn’t talk to plants, and plants couldn’t talk back, so she just chomped it and gobbled it down whole.

The change was immediate. The pepper burst with a surge of flavour within her mouth, a sensation that quickly turned to tingling, and then burning, and then—“Ah-aha-ah—” Fluttershy fumbled with the bowl. She quickly shoved it back into the fridge and slammed it shut—quietly—all the while waving her wings to work up a breeze against her dear, poor, injured tongue.

She dashed to the sink and shoved her head under the tap, gulping down mouthfuls of cooling, refreshing water until the heated sensation was finally washed from her mouth, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“...Aaaahhh...”

Never again.

With the immediate crises sorted, she turned to inspecting her own body. Fluttershy trotted out of the kitchen and stepped into the moonlight where she could properly see. She flexed her wing muscles, arching her back fully expectant to feel a difference.

Nothing felt out of the ordinary. Other than the latent burning of her gums, she still felt perfectly normal. She quickly counted through her symptoms: shortness of breath, heavy breathing, itching and burning between her legs, she even attempted to arch her back to see past her tail to check whether she’d given any initial winking.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She’d eaten a chilly and burned her gums, embarrassed herself and made herself out like a fool for absolutely fuck all. Her cheeks burned with the embarrassment despite nopony to watch.

“Mmfff—quack-quack—” Twilight mumbled from her position on the couch. She tossed and turned, and as Fluttershy made a turn around the bed to watch, she caught the end of Twilight’s blanked beginning to slide off and pulled it back up over the mare.

The princess was shaking, and when the warmth of the yak-fur covering was returned to her, she relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief, and smiled in her sleep as she held onto the warm blanket.

Fluttershy couldn’t help but smile at the sight. They said that ponies were always the cutest in their sleep, and Twilight was no exception. For all her bookworm tendencies, she was really a beautiful mare, even more so now that she was growing to a stature meeting her status. Fluttershy always envied her confidence, and now she did too her looks.

Twilight’s mumbling resumed, giving out a low, sultry purr. Her wings spread out from beneath the covers as she rolled onto her back, spreading her hind legs off the edge of the couch, almost sliding off the edge as she moaned. “Oooo... Long Division...” she said.

Fluttershy’s cheeks flushed, and her wings began to peek. The display gave her an idea, a naughty idea, but it certainly wasn’t something she was ever going to try, not unless it was an emergency—“Aaaagh, and your wife too—“ Twilight groaned. She started grinding her rump into the hard upholstery. “I-C-Cadance, aren’t you supposed to be on-g-garrison duty with my brother?”

Her wings were at full mast, both of theirs were, and throbbing. The temptation etched into Fluttershy’s mind. Twilight was grinding herself against the couch right in front of her, to a wet-wet dream. Not some math homework from her school days, this was real, proper lewd bucking as Twilight struggled in her dreams.

Fluttershy couldn’t take her eyes off f her friend, watching as Twilight bucked her hips to the rhythm of some imaginary stallion—Mr Long Division. All the while, her mind flashed back to her memory of earlier that day, and later that night. She’d momentarily considered the thought of doing it with another mare. It was... wrong, but somehow exciting.

Twilight was asleep, she wouldn’t know. She’d think it was the bad dream anyway and wouldn’t even remember what had happened. And in all regards, it was her right to ensure her friends slep well, right?

“A-And if the chillies aren’t working...” she whispered under her breath. Fluttershy gingerly stepped over to the side of the couch, lowering herself carefully beside Twilight’s form. “...it could prove beneficial,” she continued, “for both of us.”

She slowly lifted herself up to straddle the sleeping mare, careful not to wake her or do anything too sudden as to wake her. Twilight’s motions slowed. Her brow, once furrowed, un-creased as she relaxed under the weight of another.

Her breathing was fast, short panting hat they both mimicked in time.

And then Fluttershy started moving.

.

~ ~ ~

.

BREEE-BREEE-BREEEE-BREEEEE

Zephyr Breeze was awoken with a start. His forehead slammed into the shelf directly above his bead, and the stallion tumbled to the floor beside with a groan.

Fluttershy was awoken from her slumber with a gentle sigh. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she was greeted with a new yet familiar sensation between her legs. She had no proper recollection of being returned to bed, and yet here she was staring at the same ceiling now with the bright sunlight of a new morning streaming in from the street outside.

Something inside her coiled, and a warm burning immediately began to radiate form her core, a wanton need that shook her to her very bone, an urging that caused her face to flush and her breathing to increase into short, wanton, panting.

Zephyr Breeze tumbled through the detritus littering his tiny one-room apartment, trudging through the kitchen to reach the bathroom sink. His eyes were heavy and caked with sleep, and his mouth was itching and course, the flakes of mare pussy still sticking to his dirty coat as a reminder that, indeed, this was real life.

He just barely reached the sink and thrust the medicine cabinet open, retrieving a tube of toothpaste and his toothbrush. As the door closed, he cringed at the unkempt stallion that stared back. Untied man-bun, dirty, matted fur, eye-bags that could rival an elephant’s trunk. It was going to be a long morning.

Fluttershy breezed through her morning routine, an air of giddy anticipation hanging around her as she brushed her teeth, combed her mane, did her business and took care of her other business for good measure. Her heat was slowly rising, getting stronger and more intense with every completed task, and it had her—again—almost giddy with anticipation.

Twilight was unusually perky when she arrived at the breakfast table. The purple mare was chewing on a mouth-full of Boop-o-Roops. What was unfortunately the only breakfast this hotel had to offer, was spoon full of cholesterol and a sugar-induced heart attack waiting to happen. Literal asbestos couldn’t have been worse—which is what Twilight had said the day before.

Today she was perfectly happy showing down on it without a care in the world. Her wings were fluffed and her mane was perfectly combed, save for the occasional split end that she diligently worked against with the brush hanging in her aura. Her eyes hovered over the ingredients list of the cereal box, and her face lit up momentarily as Fluttershy strutted into the room, then they dropped and her ears flattened with disappointment, followed by alarm and then horror as Fluttershy demonstrated the situation.

Zephyr skipped breakfast—he was already an hour late for work and wasted no time in getting out the door and down the stairs. At the first step, he promptly tripped and fell, trolling head and flank first over every single step between his loft, one-mare, apartment and the ground floor.

Twilight Sparkle, newly invigorated Princess of Equestria, and all around nice mare when around friends, but an absolute nightmare when ripped off—or worse, having her friends ripped off—stormed through the revolving entranceway to Assley Maredison. She practically blasted the doors off their hinges, and obliterated the moustached stallion that had just so happened to be on the other side of the doorway when she entered. She didn’t pay any mind to his burn marks, or the singing of the carpet, or even for common manners as she stormed up to the head dick of Assley Maredison and the desk she was standing behind.

“What kind of half-cocked institution are you running here!?” She slammed both hooves against the desk. The cock, now under the earth pony-esque strength of a princess of Equestria, particularly powered by caffeine and rage, threatened to split itself in two.

Fluttershy cowered behind her, attempting as she might, to dissuade Twilight’s rage. “T-Twilight,” she whispered. “It’s okay, it’s not their f—“

Twilight ignored her, instead drilling into the receptionist—Correction Plot Device’s soul with her eyes. She hoped beyond all hope that heat vision was among the powers bestowed with Alicorn magic. “Explanations. Now.”

“I-I-uh,” Plot Device stammered, sweat dripping from her brow as she forced a trembling smile upon her face. She pulled up the paperwork from last time, sorting through them as she stumbled through her reply. “W-Well, we did—I mean, this is highly unusual. We’ve always had a hundred-percent success rate...”

“Well, clearly”—Twilight rolled her eyes—“your methods are not quite satisfactory.” She paused, glowering at the mare across the dick from her. “In fact,” she added, “It’s downright dishonest. The fact that you would offer a mare relief, and it would only last one day is completely inexcusable.” She slammed a hoof against the mare’s dick. The giant phallus trembled under the force, and then ruptured in two. “I demand a refund”—

“You didn’t pay anything!”

“and complete remuneration for the time spent, wasted, at this whores house, or Celestia so help me I’m going to—”

“Twilight!” Fluttershy tugged at her mane, pulling her aside. “Please, you don’t have to do this.” She begged. She looked Twilight in the eye and smiled, giving her the most softest, pleadingest, cutest Fluttershy stare she could bare.

Fluttershy pushed the pink locks out of her face, throwing the full force of the puppy dog eyes in Twilight’s face, and her rage simmered to a boil almost instantly. “But, Fluttershy—” She started, then leaning closer to whisper again. “Fluttershy, I don’t trust these ponies. What they did before clearly didn’t work, and I don’t want you going through another session with them to get temporary relief just to have to come back again.”

‘Shy shook her head. She bit her lip and simply said, “I-It’s not quite like that...”

Twilight leaned in closer, her brow creasing into a frown. “...what do you mean?”

This caused Fluttershy to squeal, and she quickly piped up as Twilight’s gaze narrowed on her, scrutinizing her. She was about to say it was all her fault, that she’d eaten the chillies that made her... hot, again, but then now, suddenly under Twilight’s overbearing eye, her voice died in her throat.

She took a step back, feigning confidence as she plastered on a smile. “N-No, no, it’s...”

It’s certainly not because I ate chillies to come back to this place, but then because they didn’t work I decided to grind myself on your sleeping form until they did. That would have been crazy

“It’s...” She swallowed. “I-I have this feeling she’s telling the truth, Twilight. Can’t we just—G-Give them another chance?” Her smile widened as she directed the attention back to Plot Device.

Plot Device jolted to attention, almost slipping into the crack between the two halves of her fractured dick. “Y-Yes!” She flashed a nervous smile, and grasped for the scattered papers around the mottled surface, stacking and straightening them in her hooves. “A—A—Aaaas I was saying, this is highly unusual. Every other patron since opening has reported one hundred percent satisfaction. They haven’t come back with another estrus attack for at least another four weeks after, which is—”

“Perfectly in line with their normal schedule,” Twilight recited. She rolled her eyes. The lessons from school were still fresh into her mind—etched almost as deep so as that phallic, neon, glowing sign. “I know!”

Mrs Device flinched away from Twilight’s raised hoof and she quickly through better of it, and set all four legs back on the ground. She continued, in a slightly more calm tone. “Okay”—she breathed, recited Cadenza’s exercises under her breath, and exhaled. “Perhaps I was a little harsh. We’ll try it again”—Fluttershy silently pumped her hoof into the air, giving her most subtle of ‘woohoos’—

“But” Twilight set a few bits on the dick, training her eyes levelled at the receptionist. “This time we’re doing this right. I’ll dictate the diagnosis and treatment, and you will give her the deluxe package.”

Zephyr arrived at work to a blown-in front entrance and a commotion inside. He decided to take the back entrance this morning.

.

~ ~ ~

.

Fluttershy was ushered quickly to the same room as before, or rather, a very similar room to before. It had much of the same features. It was down the same hall on the left, with the same massaging bed, the same wall design, and the same ponies waiting to get her more ‘comfortable’. What was different, though, was the size. This one was almost a full foot larger in each direction, with the addition of various sofas, scatter cushions, and candles to give the room a little extra... mood.

Her cheeks were tinted red and she could feel her heart beat racing, and breath quickening as the ponies were a flurry of motions around her. They wasted no time in getting her splayed out atop the bed and her hooves bound once again, on her back this time with the bed on its lowest settings.

The nearly imperceptible vibrations were hard to noticed, and they quickly had Fluttershy’s wings straining to full mast against the soft mattress—a feat none too difficult considering she was watching them, eagerly, as they worked to tie back her tail and exposed her red hot pussy lips for the world to see.

One of them gave Fluttershy a gentle stroking to get her started whilst Fluttershy and Plot Device feigned to oversee the whole endeavour. The latter was standing near the base of the bed, just far enough so as to be out of the way of her working ponies, but not so far either that she couldn’t afford herself a thorough inspection of the patient’s assets.

Both of them were poring over a clipboard levitated between them, Twilight with her horn aglow as she offered ‘corrections’ to the checklist of items to mark off. Fluttershy couldn’t make out what either was saying but by the looks of how they stared at her, and giggled, it wasn’t going to be something good.

Aloe clamped the last of the bindings into place. She pulled the straps taught and soft woollen cufflinks tightened around Fluttershy’s fetlocks, locking her hooves to the table at her side. They had, for some reason, decided to leave her hind legs free to move, though with her on her back and her wings pinned, it didn’t seem at all necessary. She was already thoroughly immobile.

The final, finishing touch, was a rubber ball gag fastened tightly into her mouth, stifling any sounds that Fluttershy might make during the course of her ‘treatment’—with a passing flick to her ear as the spa pony turned away to complete her business.

“The subject is ready,” she cooed as she passed, trailing the soft frogs of her hoof over Fluttershy’s chest and stomach as she passed. Aloe paid special attention to her teats, giving them a gentle rub and squeezed on their final contact.

The touch itself sent shivers up Fluttershy’s spine, making her moan out against the gag. Her whole body tensed and shook and the jangling of the shackles were a muffled thump, along with her voice but a stifled whimper. “Mmmfmf...”

Twilight and Mrs. Device took instant notice. Their ears perked and both of them looked up from the clipboard to give Fluttershy an once-over. Twilight’s face when immediately flush whilst Mrs Plot, if she’d had a reaction, she wasn’t showing it at all. Her face was a modicum of absolute and complete professionalism; the picture of self-control. “Mm...yes.” She nodded her approval and checked off an item on the list, though ‘Shy couldn’t for the life of her see what it was.

Fluttershy responded with a grunt. Her nostrils flared, the hot breath leaving her in a hoarse huff. The ball gag offered her precious little in the way of conversation.

Twilight nodded as well, her eyes never leaving her friend’s exposed behind. “Uuuh... huh,” she said. Twilight’s wings—now half-extended—fluttered against her back. They stretched to relieve the tension as she turned to leave with Mrs. Device.

Fluttershy snorted and shook her head, shaking the bed as she kicked and bucked her restraints. Wait! “Mmmffmfmf!”

Both mares paused. Twilight’s horn glowed, and a warm tingling passed through Twilight’s nostrils and over her cheeks. The ball gag lifted itself out of her mouth as Twilight leaned back over the bed, brining her ear too as she asked. “Hm...?”

“—Wait!” ‘Shy froze. Her eyes dilated at the sudden outburst, scared by her own voice. She shied back, and was suddenly found missing her mane as a means to hide behind. “I mean...” she said again, in a softer whisper.

It felt wrong to add an extra request. A part of her wanted to discard it, as a dirty little fetish. Pointless, even, but she still remembered how exciting her short stint with it had been before.

“C-Can you ...” Her voice became a squeak as she said, “B-Blind fold me again, please?”

Twilight and Mrs. Device shared a look, their raised eyebrows mirroring each other as they mentally arbitrated the decision. Plot Device looked over her back. She glanced at the checklist, and then nodded to Twilight, pulling out a black piece of fabric from the ‘box-o-dirty-secrets’ sitting just outside the door.

The fold was secured tightly over her eyes, plunging Fluttershy back into the realm of darkness she so loved. She breathed a sigh of relief and felt herself relax, properly, for the first time since yesterday. The only sounds was of her own heartbeat, and the calming thum-thum-thumm of the massaging bed below her.

Her marehood—her pussy lips, ached for release, even more intensely now that she had nothing else to distract her mind. She could feel it clenching and twisting, the tiny nub trembling just beneath her entrance, enticed by the idea of maybe meeting him again.

It was going to be a long, long thirty minutes.

.

~ ~ ~

.

Zephyr hurried though the darkened passage with nary a moment to spare. He almost tripped over his own hooves as her went, stumbling across the softened carpet—it was more a tripping hazard than anything else—scanning the signs next to each room for his destination.

The dark lighting didn’t help in the slightest, either. Zephyr was forced to squint as he prattled off each and every sign he saw. “2, 3, 4, A4, A29, C, 7, 0, 69%...” The numbers didn’t make much sense, but then again, his vision wasn’t exactly on the best level. All he needed to know was that he was looking for the door with ‘A3’ next to it—the luxury lounge.

One of the doors cracked open, flooding the passage with an incandescent yellow light and two mares trotted out giggling like school fillies. They both started the other way, leaving the door to swing shut behind them.

In the narrowing light, Zephyr’s eyes caught the shape of an ‘A’ on the sign next to the door, followed shortly after by a ‘3’. She breathed in and made a lunge for the door. “Oh, no-no, no-” It slammed shut, with a definite crunch.

.

~ ~ ~

.

The door’s swing ended in a deafening crunch, so loud that Fluttershy felt her hairs stand on end. Almost the entire table jumped as she squeaked with fright, and she instinctively called out into the darkness beyond. “H-Hello?”

A stallion grumbled in the background, some slurs that made Fluttershy’s ears drop and her cheeks flush all the worse.

.

~ ~ ~

.

Zephyr Breeze stepped into the room with a visible limp and a pained wheeze. He was sporting a fresh ice-pack and a throbbing new migraine from his encounter with the door. The lights in the room were comparatively bright—too bright, and it took a moment for his eyes to fully adjust.

He took a deep breath. The task was simple. This was a special request case, but it worked exactly the same as all the others—or so the instructors had told him.

Come to think of it, it was strange that they would be sending the junior member to handle such a customer on their second day, but what was he to mess with fate? Maybe old Zeph’ was just destined to be the object of attraction to any female that walks and breathes—and some that might not, though that was a memory he’d rather leave hidden. He retched. “I-I’ll never look at rainbow cookies the same ever again...”

His vision started to clear and the rough shape of a pony strapped to the table came into focus. She was on her back, her legs spread out to either side with what he could only guess was her pussy pointing directly at him—it was hard to tell until he could get closer.

As Zephyr approached the table, considering what the options were. His briefing was specific: fuck her, fuck her silly, try not to cum inside, and get back out. It was that simple. So simple even a kinder—No, no, he was already in enough with the law as it was. It was simple, let’s put it like that.

The colours returned to his vision, adding a slash of yellows and pinks to the display. The mare also whimpered, though muffled, in a voice that was eerily similar. The form coalesced, finally, clarifying into a perfect image—the spitting image of Fluttershy, and Zephyr’s heart stopped.

No.

Oh, no, no ,no

He backed up an inch. It was her. Again. Here. Now. Why now!?

He’d already clopped to her the night before. He’d convinced himself that it was a dream, that the mare he saw wasn’t Fluttershy, but a mare that looked a lot like her. Sounded like her, had the same cutie mark—or one that was just about the same.

But now, in the new position, he was afforded a view he hadn’t had before. Her teats and belly were played out in front of him, a lewd display of every part of his sister he had never imagined seeing—not ever, not especially whilst she was... winking. At him.

His mouth was dry. It felt like sandpaper to swallow. He could tell himself this was another coincidence... that it was another mare that looked like her or a dream, maybe it was a dream?

Zephyr’s heart was pounding. Her made to call out to Luna, but quickly stopped himself. That couldn’t be true, though. Dreams didn’t have pain. His entire day had been nothing but pain, unless the last knock was enough to kicking him all the way out of Equestria and into heaven—or hell, under these circumstances.

But there was only one way to find out. If this was the mare with which they’d been to school together, taken cloud-carving together, occasionally shared a raincloud whenever the water supply was low, then she would know him. She helped him before, she gave him the encouragement he needed to change his life—whether for better or not—and she’d gotten him ‘back on track’ at his lowest point.

That last one left a pang of guilt run through his heart. ‘Lowest Point’ Celestia’s ass, here he was, debating whether or not to fuck his sister and just rooming with her was considered the ‘lowest point’.

Regardless, if this was really Fluttershy, she’d know what to do. She’d help him, and if she needed him, she’d sure as hell be there for her.

But first.

“F-Fluttershy?”

.

~ ~ ~

.

Fluttershy flinched at the sound of his voice. It was louder, sterner, and almost convicted but also... disturbed. There was something familiar about that voice, something she still couldn’t place into context. It was from somewhere.

“Mmf—”The ball was yanked from her mouth, left to dangle freely under her chin. She stretched her lips, letting the harsh taste of rubber leave her system. “Y—Yes?” she said meekly. Was it possible he’d know her name? She didn’t think so. Neither of them had put her real name down o the papers, mostly leaving the details blank to keep these ‘excursions’ private.

“Um, uh... is it...” He gulped.

There was a moment of silence where all she could hear was the sound of his hooves fumbling against the tiled floor, and the shuffling of his limbs. The muscles of her stomach gave another clench, tightening her pussy lips and causing her clit to pop out for one more wink. Her juices trailed a fresh dribble all the way down her lips, ticking her fur as it went.

She could still hear him, in silence, his breathing quickening. Was he watching her? W-was he, really, getting horny just by looking at her? It wasn’t clear, but the way he fumbled with his words, the way he shuffled his hooves, it was all so familiar.

It was cute and endearing, just like a certain other colt she knew, though they hadn’t met since flight camp, when she’d left to live on the ground. It was all the exact same way young Z—

Everything stopped. Fluttershy felt like her stomach had dropped. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into position, one by one, slowly forming a picture that had a deep swelling of dread bubble up inside her.

“Zephyr?” she whispered, barely audible over the humming of the chair.

No response. Total silence.

She tried again. “Zephyr Breeze?”

More silence. Could this r-really be her brother? It all made sense. The voice, the way he spoke, the stubble on his chin, the way he knew how to push her buttons, it was all perfect. But why? How!?

The thought was everything at once, scary and enticing, exciting, arousing. A new heat started to grow from her loins. It was like the bed had been turned up to eleven and somepony had set a fire under her belly. She felt the gentle trickle of moisture from her folds grow into a torrential splattering, her gentle nub winking faster as her heartbeat rose and panting deepened.

Her heat was back, and it was furious, and it was all her shame that she was feeling this for her brother, of all ponies.

She probed again—she was distinctly aware of his presence, though he did nothing to sate her desire. “L-Little brother?” she whined. The bed was still on its lowest setting, though it still chipped away at her nerves, piece by piece. She had to say something, something more. “Brother, I—“

“Why did you come here?”

“I-I wanted to see you.” It was true, to some extent. Applejack would have probably been spitting at her now, but it was the closest she could come to an excuse. She still regretted the words all that much. It was like breaking some ancient vow, to love—to love her brother.

She whined again, now more needful. “P-Please, I need you...” She bucked her hips.

.

~ ~ ~

.

Zephyr didn’t know what to do. Every modicum of common sense and decency had long since left his body, thrown out the window with every last shred of self-doubt. There was no denying it now, and he couldn’t help but hate himself for growing this raging erection at the thought of Fluttershy, at the image of her bucking and moaning for him in front of his very eyes.

This was his sister for Celestia’s sake!

But little shiny didn’t seem to care. He got up all the same, signalling to Zephyr’s mind that he had work to do. Which was, admittedly, technically correct.

He had promised to help her if she needed him. N matter what. So maybe this was okay? Just this once?

His body worked almost on auto-pilot, the blood lost from his head for another. Hey had both decided together, in silence, that he would do this. They could figure this out later, when he wasn’t throbbing for release.

Zephyr dipped under the table long enough to retrieve the designated equipment. The customer’s instructions and company policy were very explicit. The cooler had straps perfectly suited to the wearer, with some small adjustments to fit over any stallion’s existing arrangement, though this one was a little more difficult to fit than usual.

Normally it was meant for a flaccid dick, but his erect goliath did little to cooperate with the straps and leads, resulting in the awkward manoeuvre of hanging to sling the false phallus below his growing erection. The straps were enchanted to tighten around her perineum and flanks, giving a solid, almost natural, snug fit around her balls.

It was like having two dicks, which meant all the awkward that came with one, multiplied by double. Zephyr moved awkwardly as he carefully mounted the bench behind his sister, setting the end of the dildo straight, angled towards her wet lips. His own stallionhood flopped uselessly on top, serving as more of an obstruction than aid as it yearned to squeeze into its own tight space, instead forced upwards and over Fluttershy’s body to grind between her teats instead.

She gasped and he cooed. “Shhh... It—It’s okay.” He didn’t know if he believed his own words, but he said them anyway, using his free hoof to press down on her thigh to stay her trembled

Fluttershy moaned; more of a tiny squeak than a throaty hoarse mare. She was so cute when she did that—No—No! Zephyr shook himself. This was for her.

Even despite that, he felt his head flare as it was squeezed between the subtle mounds of his flesh. He’d already started to absent-mindedly grind against her, the tip of the dildo just barely grazing her already sopping wet entrance.

He just had to push.

Just a little further. And he’d be in penetrating her. Fluttershy. His sister.

“I—” he swallowed. She did the same, as if anticipating his words. He changed his mind and switched to a softer voice, leaning with his body over her to hold her gently, like a good loving stallion would. She deserved the best. This was the luxury treatment, after all. “I—I’m going to p-push into you,” he whispered, “O-Okay?”

She nodded a jerky motion. “O-Okay.”

Zephyr gently pressed forward. It was the slowest, gentlest, motion her could muster. Her felt like if he went any further, he could breaker—or worse, hurt her. If he hurt dear Fluttershy now, he could never forgive himself. “T-Tell me if it hurts...”

His hips were shaky. It was the weirdest sensation he could ever imagine. He could feel himself pressing down on her, slowly gliding deeper, penetrating his sister with the flat tip of the strapon whilst his own dick grazed her soft fur, straining forward between her mounds. He could clearly see it in front of him, and yet he felt like he was buried deep, deep inside her pussy.

“Oh—f—fuck.”

That wasn’t him.

His eyes darted back to his sister. Her blindfold was still holding steady, though she was biting her lips, as if straining against something. Oh fuck, she was so hot—Sister, damn it!

Zephyr pressed again, slightly harder this time. The dildo slipped further into her. There was no need of lube, or anything. Her pussy was so slick, so wet and needy; it was like gliding over silken cloth into the gates of heaven itself. It was bliss incarnate, and he wasn’t even doing it with his own dick.

Another thrust, this time quicker, and her breathing picked up, breaking into pants every time her felt his balls press against the back of the dildo. Her winking clit pushed back, grinding her precious nub against the top of the dildo—evidently also caught between the cooler and his real dick. It sent shivers through his spine.

“Oh—oh—ooh, Zephyr...” He’d heard her say it before, last time. It was surprising he hadn’t caught it back then, but Fluttershy was whispering his name as she came, whether she knew it or not. Gentle droplets of mare cum splattered against the base of the dildo, lubricating it further and spreading to the base of his dick as he fucked into her with increasing ferocity.

“Hnng...” Zephyr had to grit his teeth. He pressed harder, faster. The vibrations of her pussy clamping down on the dildo translated to a buzz against his balls, up his shaft, to accentuate the tight confines of her teats stroking up and down with every downwards stroke.

Her legs lifted on instinct, and Zephyr pressed into them, pulling Fluttershy’s closer to his own as she enveloped him into a full-body hug. The bindings of the massaging bed kept her in place, as she was bucked against the chains, only able to hold on by her fetlocks wrapped around Zephyr’s back.

She whispered. “Oh, Zephyr... I—I’m getting close...”

Again!? Zephyr pushed down harder, increasing his own rising plateau. It was weird. It was so, so weird. All the parts of his brain were firing in the wrong directions—parts telling him this was gross, others asking what their parents would think—but the dominant one of the bunch, the loudest voice above the rest screamed. “C-C-c-cumming!”

Zephyr’s breath left this body. His muscled locked up and the sensible parts of his mind congratulated him for not putting it inside her, because there was no way he was going to pull away from that. Fluttershy responded much the same, her body locking and tightening. Her pussy clenched around the fake shaft whilst her clenching muscled massaged Zephyrs’ shaft between their tits.

They both moaned out in using.

“I—I—I love you little brother!”

“Sister!” Zephyr groaned, his cock throbbing and straining. With one final thrust, her pressed the cooler deep into his sister’s folds, and his dick fired off ropes of his cum across her stomach and chest.

Little jets rocketed out between them they rolled through their orgasms together, just enjoying the blissful relaxation that washed over their bodies. Zephyr collapsed against the table, pressing his erupting dick between himself and his sister—the extra pressure lengthened his orgasm, pushing it to new heights as the lights shorted and sparked through his mind.

They were a heaving, panting, mound, no longer brother and sister but simply existing as lovers. Fluttershy was the first to come-to, her eyes fluttered open. Though she had nothing to see, she could recognise the shape her lover’s face—of dear little Zephyr—lying mere inches from her own muzzle.

Without a word, she leaned forward and their lips touched. He pressed back, welcoming the contact without a single thought.

They kissed.